


Beneath the Wings

by GirlKnownSomewhere



Category: The Monkees (Band), The Monkees (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Band Fic, Crushes, Cute, F/M, Ficlet, Flirting, One Shot, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlKnownSomewhere/pseuds/GirlKnownSomewhere
Summary: Ann participates in the recording of the Monkees' signature songs, 'I'm a Believer' and 'Daydream Believer.'
Relationships: Peter Tork/Ann Moses
Kudos: 7





	Beneath the Wings

**Author's Note:**

> So in real life, Ann and one of her friends accompanied the Monkees and Chip during the recording of 'Daydream Believer' with the clapping on the chorus. But there was a period in the mid 2010s, where Ann mistakenly said in a handful of interviews she did the clapping on 'I'm a Believer,' until someone pointed out on her Facebook last year that it's actually 'Daydream Believer.' (Chip even verifies in an old Tiger Beat article that Ann's on DB.) This just got me thinking about writing a ficlet on the recording sessions. And since it's fanfic, I inserted Fic!Ann into both songs for some extra inspiration, heh.
> 
> Also, since we don't know which of Ann's friends helped with the clapping, I included her fellow journalist buddies Tracy Thomas and Rochelle Reed for the fic. For some reason, up until a couple of weeks ago, I was under the impression Tracy looked like this
> 
> https://monkees.coolcherrycream.com/articles/1967/10/flip/our-girl-from-hollywood
> 
> But this is actually what she looks like
> 
> https://monkees.coolcherrycream.com/articles/1967/07/flip/our-girl-from-hollywood
> 
> ....Oops, lol. I like how the story ended up too much to change any of it, tbh. So for this whole one-shot, we're going to have to pretend she's a slim blonde, lol.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Monkees, Ann Moses,' Tracy Thomas,' Rochelle Reed's, Chip Douglas' or Jeff Barry's likenesses.

One-shot: Beneath the Wings

NYC, October 1966

Ann carefully entered the New York recording studio with only a little bit more nerves than usual. It was an incredibly rare occasion where she visited a studio outside of LA, but she, of course, wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity for a special feature or hanging out with some of her more famous friends. She was in town to cover a couple of shows by the Standells, who had become one of the regular groups she profiled in her popular column. But when her editor Ralph heard of the Monkees also being in town to record a couple of tracks, he told her to stop by and try to get something extra out of the visit. While this addition made her even more excited to be in the Big Apple, Ann still wasn’t as close to the TV-pop music group as she was with already established bands like Paul Revere & the Raiders and Herman’s Hermits. She’d spent about a handful of times visiting the Monkees’ sitcom set and a couple of recording sessions, but was still a little on edge around them, hoping they were impressed with her. Professionally and maybe even friendly.

The teen reporter walked through the unfamiliar building halls as she attempted to find the room holding the new band. On the way, she walked past a man with dark, thick hair and a brown, suede jacket who appeared confident and cool. Ann then quickly realized he had exited the door that the receptionist informed her the Monkees were recording behind today. When she opened said door, she found two bandmates—Micky and Peter—as well as an engineer and the song’s producer, whom she recognized as Jeff Barry. When Micky found Ann as he casually turned his head, he quickly jumped up to greet her.

“Oh, hi, Ann. Did we know you were stopping by?”

“Kind of…I didn’t know you guys were in the city the same time as me until a couple days ago,” she answered with a light smile.

“Ah, neat. Well, make yourself comfortable. We’re about halfway through the session already.”

“Oh…cool!” Ann tried to sound optimistic and not slightly disappointed at the news.

Peter then leapt to the other side of the room with a happy grin. “Annie!”

She felt herself instantly blush at him using the endearment and she smiled in return. “Hi, Peter.”

“Sorry, I guess we should’ve warned you it’s just a couple of vocal tracks for the next single,” he revealed.

“Oh…you guys are still using session players?” She asked a bit surprised at the suggestion.

Peter suddenly looked disappointed himself. “Yeah…unfortunately.”

A brief, slightly awkward pause occurred until Peter came up with an idea. “Hey, do you want to help us do the clapping on the track?” He asked excitedly. “It’s the last thing we have left after Davy and I do harmony.”

A wave of anxiety swept through her for a split. “Oh, no, that’s alright…I should be taking notes anyway,” she responded while showing her notebook with a meek smile. “Thanks all the same though!”

He then grabbed her hand and lead her further into the recording room before stopping at the soundboard. “Jeff, this is the journalist we told you about earlier.” 

Ann gave a big smile and a wave with her free hand. Jeff nodded back in response with a mild look of surprise on his face. She assumed he wasn’t expecting her to be so young. “I’m Ann Moses. I’m a contributing editor for Tiger Beat. Sorry I missed the first hour of recording...I’ve only been to New York a couple times as a tour guest,” she tried to explain and not sound nervous.

“Oh, it’s not a problem,” he assured. “I’d rather a girl take notes in the corner than one of the guys’ roadies try to convince them to go on smoking breaks.”

She let out a sound between a breath of relief and a light laugh. “Thanks. I also brought my photo camera, if that’s okay…” He just shrugged as if he didn’t care and moved to the opposite side of the board where the engineer was. Ann then felt Peter give her hand a quick squeeze before rushing off to the exit where she found Micky waving for Peter to leave the room with him. Momentarily left to herself, Ann took a seat by the piano. A few minutes after she set up her camera and placed out her notebook and pen on her lap, Micky, Davy and Peter returned. Jeff coordinated Davy and Peter to the recording booth for a quick session of backing vocals. Ann eventually found herself tapping her foot along to the pop beat. After a couple of takes, Jeff then asked Micky to join them in a few takes of hand clapping as the final element of the backing track. About 45 minutes later, Jeff called for a break, and Peter jumped into the seat next to Ann.

“Oh, hey. You were right, the song is really catchy,” Ann commented as she finished writing a sentence on her pad.

“Yeah, Neil’s tracks are always ear worms,” he agreed.

“Oh? Is this another Neil Sedaka contribution?”

“No, this writer goes by Neil Diamond.” She nodded plainly, though the name was unfamiliar to her. “He’s a New Yorker. That’s probably why you don’t recognize him,” Peter suggested.

“Ah, cool,” she responded casually. “It’s called ‘I’m a Believer,’ right?”

“Yeah. Don’s hoping for it to be a Thanksgiving release,” he revealed as she finished jotting down a final note for the session. “You want to hop across the street for a cup of coffee? We’re pretty much done here. Jeff and Jack are just gonna do some production magic.”

“For sure!” Ann replied gleefully. After she packed up her bag and followed Peter out of the recording room, he told her to meet him on the bottom floor as he made a detour to the restroom. When she stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the ‘down’ button, she discovered the ‘serious’ Monkee, Mike on the other end. Trying not to show any hesitation or nervousness, she stepped in next to him. He didn’t appear to mind or make any direct acknowledgment of her presence. In fact, Ann was surprised he was even in the building as he didn’t participate with any of the vocal tracks from earlier. Mike was still the one band member who Ann was struggling to get a legitimate interview out of. She kept getting excuses for not meeting with her or only passive answers from him when she interviewed the whole group together. After the elevator door closed and they both stayed silent until Ann cleared her throat to get his attention. “Um, Mike…”

He turned his head, with left brow at a mild arch.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but…you’re still the only one left in the band I need a profile from…”

He then let out a groan with an expression that reminded her of a student being told of a new project. 

“It’s only half a pa—”

“Ann, you’re pretty good at research, right?” 

“Um, I try my best…” She answered cautiously.

“When’s my birthday?” He asked bluntly.

It took her a second to recall the date as she wasn’t expecting such a specific question. “…New Year’s—”

“Two days before New Year’s,” he corrected minorly.

“Yeah…the same day as Davy,” she added.

“And how old am I turning this year?” He continued.

“…24…” She replied cautiously again.

“You know I’m married, right?”

“Yes—”

“And we have a son, whose almost two—”

“Christian—”

“And I’m sure you know I’m producing five tracks during these sessions, right?” 

Ann was a little taken aback that he kept instigating the questioning. “Yes…you already finished two—”

“Well, that on top of rehearsing, composing, touring, playing a lead in a sitcom…you see where this is going?” Mike concluded with another question.

“Uh…I think so…”

“I don’t exactly have time for your teenybopper bullshit,” he flatly stated.

Ann stood stunned and speechless. 

“You get me?” He asked once more right as the elevator door opened again.

“…Yeah,” she finally confirmed.

“Great…thank you for understanding,” he ended before immediately slipping out of the elevator. Ann took a few more seconds to compute what just occurred before she realized the door was closing again and jumped out right in time. She then saw Peter walking toward her, with a concerned look on his face.

“Hey…you alright?”

“Mike just blew me off again…” She answered meekly.

Peter rolled his eyes and gently rubbed her arm. “It’s not you. He did the same thing to the last radio DJ we met with too,” he claimed. “I can help you write his summary again,” he then offered.

Ann sighed in defeat. “Oh, Peter, you don’t have to. I’m starting to feel bad you and Micky have helped me so much on his pieces while he’s basically done nothing…”

He just shrugged. “I like helping my friends,” he insisted optimistically.

She smiled back in appreciation while sighing. He carefully linked arms with her and lead her out of the lobby. “You going to Bert’s and Bob’s costume party next week?” He asked to change the subject.

“Oh…I actually did get invited to that,” Ann remembered and perked up.

“Far out!” He exclaimed and nudged her arm in excitement. “It’ll be great. And don’t let Mike ruin the rest of your trip.” She smiled again, this time more genuinely, and felt at ease from Peter’s authentic comfort and support.

LA, June 1967

After ending the Monkees’ opening show at the Bowl for their summer tour on a rather awkward note arguing with Peter a week ago; Ann felt they might need a bit of space apart before travelling with him, Micky and Sammy to Monterey the following week. But unfortunately, the concept of letting the tension linger naturally would not be a high possibility. Ann had already promised to take her fellow magazine columnist friend, Tracy Thomas with her to the next Monkees recording session she was visiting, which they scheduled to be five days after the Monkees concert. On top of that, another friend of Ann’s from the Tiger Beat offices, Rochelle Reed, overheard her talking about the meet-up on her office phone, and asked if she could tag along, which Ann agreed with initially. So now, despite unintentionally insulting her closest Monkee friend and not certain if he was still upset with her or not, Ann felt obliged to still show up to the recording session with her girl friends.

Tracy was essentially the equivalent of Ann’s job and persona at Tiger Beat, but for Flip Magazine, another local teen publication. In many ways, Tracy was arguably the reason Ann currently even had a music journalism career; as they first met when the latter was still writing in Orange County, and Tracy convinced her to work full time in LA. Ann knew that she was really itching to get to another Monkees session to talk to Davy. Rochelle was a Tiger Beat feature editor, who was basically given leftover assignments or projects Ann wasn’t interested in as Ann was the zine’s star editor and had her own full page column. And she knew Rochelle was just looking for an excuse to see Mike up close and personal. The three young women entered the RCA studio building and took off their sunglasses as they left the sun behind the doors. Tracy, light blonde with shoulder length hair, wore a white, sleeveless turtleneck top with a black mini-skirt and placed her glasses in her purse. Rochelle left her long raven hair down to mid-back, wore black slacks and a brownish, long-sleeved plaid blouse (despite it being summer), and loosely set her glasses on top of her head. And finally Ann wore an orange T-shirt, yellow sweater and bell-bottom jeans with her trademark sandy blonde wavy hair and bangs, while casually letting her sunglasses hang from the front of her shirt collar at the moment.

Tracy suddenly clapped her hands together while sporting a big smile. “This is so exciting! I love visiting the recording sessions of popstars. It feels so VIP.”

Ann slightly rose an eyebrow in disbelief. “Still? You’ve been in LA longer than I have…”

Tracy shrugged, still smiling. “You don’t want the stardust to wear off and have the job possibly feel boring,” she suggested. “Don’t you love the adrenaline rush?”

“I guess…I was already around for their last two albums though.” Ann would rather view the musicians she was writing about as colleagues or even friends than celebrities, but hey, that was just her prerogative.

The three girls casually strolled to the Monkees’ session, with Tracy and Rochelle following Ann. Once they reached the familiar hall, Davy popped out of one of the doors and lit up at discovering the pretty reporters. 

“Morning, ladies,” he greeted.

Tracy waved cheerfully. “Hi!” 

Rochelle also returned a greeting, and Ann just smiled, already very familiar with the ‘cute’ Monkee. Davy put wherever he was heading on hold and began chatting with Tracy and Rochelle—both of whom didn’t appear to mind at all. They passed back and forth the usual ‘how are you’s since the last few times he had met either of them on the job. Ann then noticed at a certain turn in conversing that Davy’s tone lowered a bit and he began exchanging endearments to the point where he was clearly flirting. Ann viewed the moment in amusement, while Tracy giggled occasionally. After a minute or so, for no particular reason, Ann felt like giving Davy a hard time.

“How’s Linda, Davy?”

He froze mid-sentence and looked at her for a few silent seconds. “…Fine…” He responded to the reference of his new girlfriend the general public had no idea about.

“That’s good. She was nice when I met her last week,” she continued coyly. Rochelle viewed the dialogue with her own amusement, and Tracy looked mildly disappointed at the reminder that Davy wasn’t single. 

“Yeah, she is…” He lingered again as Ann kept a faux-innocent smile on her face. He let out a light snort before shaking his head and began walking past the three journalists. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he pointed to Ann with a smirk, making it known he wasn’t bothered by her calling him out. Ann waved back leisurely before the girls went back to their own walking.

“Well, that was uncalled for,” Tracy claimed seriously.

“You really would’ve gone out with him even if he was unavailable?” Ann asked unconvinced.

“Well…no…” She answered cautiously. “He didn’t ask me out anyway. We were just having some fun,” she insisted.

“We’re here to have fun watching the musicians record, not flirt with the talent,” Ann reminded.

“Ugh, don’t sound like my mother, Ann.” The comment then made Ann’s thoughts momentarily pause and make her hope she wasn’t coming across as a square. 

As the trio entered through the studio door, they discovered Micky, Mike, and the band’s current producer Chip Douglas already in the room melodically warming up with the instruments and equipment. Mike was halfway to the door himself when he quipped in his typical half-serious, half-sarcastic tone: “Oh, terrific, the cheerleading squad’s here.” 

Ann tried not to roll her eyes while she noticed Rochelle held a sideways grin as she watched the songwriter leave the room. 

“Do you think he drove up here on his motorcycle? I didn’t see either of his GTOs or the Riviera in the lot. He’s—”

“Very married,” Ann cut her off.

Rochelle looked to her co-worker with an expression as if she wasn’t intending anything. “I know that…”

“Even if he wasn’t, you’d still have a hard time getting his attention. Mike’s all about blondes,” Ann revealed in a droll tone. Rochelle tried to not let the information affect her, while Ann was shocked Mike even showed up to the session this early. Both Peter and Davy had mentioned to her earlier that Mike had almost instantly moved on from working with the band as a regular unit once their album ‘Headquarters’ was completed. Yet he still insisted on playing guitar on all the tracks, even with also going back to having his friends on his own songs. She then considered the group might be working on one of his songs today, but she felt like she’d remember that if that were the case.

The three female friends took a seat in the back of the recording space on a spare couch as Micky walked up to them. 

“Hello, hello, hello,” he exclaimed with an animated bow. “You guys working today? We can’t promise to give you our full attention…” He warned.

Ann shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to come up with a story just from watching you guys.”

“You know, Mick. I’m still a bit peeved you gave Samantha’s phone number to Gloria Stavers so she could get her own column at ‘16’ instead of with us at Flip,” Tracy teased with a smirk.

“Ohhh, is that what that was all about? I thought Gloria was just looking for fashion tips from across the pond,” Micky joked.

Ann then chose to get up and grab a cup of water from a cooler in the corner of the room, with Micky following her. “Are you all working on one of Mike’s songs today?”

He shook his head. “Sort of. This one’s a Davy track, but you know Mike. He’s hoping to squeeze in one of his own before the day ends. Plus he likes to stick near when we arrange a song by an A-list writer.”

“Oh?” Ann asked curiously.

“Chip got us a tune by John Stewart—you know the Kingston Trio?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a pop ballad, but the chorus is almost like a chant,” Micky informed. “Chip really knows his stuff, so we should be done with this one by the end of the day.”

“What’s the song called?” She asked going into reporter mood by default.

“‘Daydream Believer,’” he answered.

She let out a tiny snort automatically. Only half a year ago the band had their biggest hit to date with the similarly titled ‘I’m a Believer.’ “Think it’ll be a hit? Your guys’ track record has been pretty tight so far.”

Micky tilted his head loosely. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, what are the chances of us scoring two hit singles with the word ‘believer’ in the title?”

Ann nodded as she filled her cup and turned back around. She saw Tracy and Rochelle standing back up.

“Ann, you want to go outside for a cigarette? Since we’re still waiting for everyone,” Rochelle suggested. 

Ann didn’t smoke, but she followed her pals anyway out of curtesy. The Flip reporter and alternate Tiger Beat columnist leaned against the building in a rather nice, shady spot, while the third journalist stood across from them. Tracy and Rochelle took occasional drags of their cigarettes and Ann chewed a piece of bubblegum. 

“Hey, Ann,” Rochelle suddenly broke the tranquil silence. “If Mike’s so into blondes, does that mean he’s made a pass at you?”

“Ew, no,” Ann said in disgust. “Well—no. Of course not. He’s married, remember?”

Rochelle released a cloud of smoke from her mouth. “I know you’re not that naïve, Annie.”

Ann just let out an exasperated breath and closed her eyes. “Guys, come on. I’ve been trying to make a serious effort that the public doesn’t view us like all the groupies and fangirls out there.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe how many groupies are hanging around the venues and studios these days,” Tracy complained while flicking some ash from the tip of her cigarette to the ground. “You know none of them are employed either.”

“Yeah, and some of them are showing their appreciation…orally backstage,” Rochelle commented.

Tracy crinkled her nose. “Uh, thanks, Shell. That was an image my mind didn’t really need.”

“I took advanced health courses, and the last thing we went over before I graduated is how there are going to be new diseases spreading through sex if people keep fornicating outside of relationships,” Rochelle continued. “And you know how much musicians love groupies…”

“Gross. Don’t tell me this, half the guys I date are music artists,” Tracy groaned.

Ann also wished Rochelle would change the topic, as this info was most likely relevant to most of the guys she hung out with. She winced and crossed her arms over her front uncomfortably.

“Just saying. We might be taking physicals and checkups at the doctor’s for more than just cancer and allergies,” Rochelle concluded.

“Great…” Tracy sarcastically tossed. “You’d think the pill would be enough for safe sex.”

“Right? I’m actually picking up a refill at the free clinic once we’re done here.”

Tracy took another drag with a nod. “What about you, Ann?”

Ann stood blank for a second. “What?”

“You’ve been a bit quiet during all this,” she pointed out.

“Oh…well, the acts I cover don’t really do the groupie thing…” She claimed.

“Really?” Rochelle asked in mild surprise. “The Monkees don’t have groupies?”

Ann gave a shrug with a shoulder while plainly shaking her head. “Not that I’ve seen…”

“Huh…”

“I mean, you two cover them too…” Ann reminded.

“Not nearly as much as you though,” Tracy countered.

“Well…I guess I’ve just been lucky or something.”

“But you’re on the pill, right?” Rochelle carried on.

Ann wished she was anywhere else but here currently. “Um…not really…”

Tracy cocked a brow. “For real?” She asked astounded and Rochelle looked confused. “I thought you told me you weren’t a virgin.”

“No, I’m not,” Ann confirmed. “But after the first time, it…never really happened again, so I just…didn’t refill the prescription…” She concluded awkwardly.

There was an uneasy pause, before Tracy tapped her cigarette again. “Well, that’s living on the edge.”

“What are you doing during those popstar dates? Just talking and eating?” Rochelle asked, not fully convinced.

“And kissing,” Ann added, but then felt silly at how childish the word choice probably was.

“Cute,” Rochelle said before another drag.

“And you know, necking like everyone else,” Ann quickly included as an attempt to sound more experienced. “Anyways, there are usually more fangirls when the Monkees are out in public,” she backtracked to get the attention off herself. 

“Oh God, that’s a whole other headache too,” Tracy said while rolling her eyes.

“That’s the one thing I miss from the folk scene,” Rochelle commented. “All of the fans actually paid attention to the shows.”

“I don’t know, the last Donovan gig I was at had quite a few giggly schoolgirls,” Tracy revealed.

As the two smokers began comparing the two sets of female admirers male music groups attract, Ann’s eyes just happened to notice Peter park and turn off the engine of his GTO in the lot next to where they stood. She felt her heart skip a beat, remembering he was upset the last time they were together, and began wishing he had already moved on.

“I’d rather be stuck in an elevator with five groupies than five fangirls.” Ann was broken out of her brief trance by Rochelle’s statement and looked back to her friends. Just then, the side door opened and out popped Micky.

“Hey. You guys want to be a part of history?”

Five minutes later, Ann, Tracy and Rochelle were back in the recording studio in front of the instruments and mics. Chip then entered through a small backdoor to the room and strolled up to them. “Oh, hi. I hope you don’t mind, I sort of would appreciate a favor from you guys while you’re hanging around.”

“Sure. What’s up?” Asked Ann.

“I need you three to participate in recording the song,” Chip revealed.

Tracy let out a half-shocked, half-excited gasp and Rochelle held an intrigued grin, while Ann’s eyebrows shot up in reluctance. “How exactly?...”

“Oh, you’ll just be doing the hand claps, nothing too complicated,” he insisted with his naturally mellow, laid back voice.

Tracy let out a squeal. “This is so outasite!” 

“Are we just going to be taping the claps isolated or live with the instruments?” Rochelle asked in an investigative tone.

“Both,” Chip responded. “I want Peter to accompany you through it with the piano, but then we’ll also do a couple of takes of just you clapping.”

“Cool,” Rochelle replied with a slight nod.

As Chip walked back to the soundboard, Ann followed casually. “So…how’s Peter been lately?”

He looked puzzled. “Fine, I think…why?”

Ann nervously placed a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing as coolly as she could. “Oh, well. I know you guys went back to recording the day after the concert, and that kind of stress can…”

He just looked at her expecting her to continue.

She sighed. “We got into an argument last week and I want to know if you know if he’s still mad at me,” she bluntly informed without bothering tact.

The musician-turned-producer just shrugged. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

“Well…okay,” she lingered disappointedly.

“I don’t know if you’ve realized, Peter and I don’t exactly chat outside of the recording booth,” he admitted.

“Oh…I guess I just thought you were both really driven by the production process to mingle,” she considered.

He looked up with a light grin. “You’re sweet.”

Ann knew he meant it genuinely, but it still internally annoyed her to hear the endearment. She then instantly wondered if the Peter situation might have anything to do with Chip and Mike already being friendly before Chip signed on as producer; and she knew that Peter’s and Mike’s social lives were almost as different as their private ones. But still. She also saw all of them in the work space regularly and knew they could get along and participate for the sake of the music. “So…why don’t you two hang out?”

“Don’t know,” he stated simply then clicked a couple buttons on the board before heading back to the center of the room. “Maybe ask Steve Stills.”

Before Ann could ask in return what that name reference was supposed to mean while following him, the main door opened and they both turned to see the musician of topic enter.

“Hey, hey!” Peter greeted familiarly and spotted Tracy and Rochelle with a wave. “Tracy! Rochelle, I read that poem you had printed in the Beat. Great stuff.” 

Rochelle looked pleasantly shocked that he recognized a piece of her writing. “Wow, thanks, Pete.”

“Sure thing,” he returned with a genuine smile. Ann watched the whole instance cautiously and tried to read him. As he walked to the piano in a dark plaid top and beige pants, he sensed Ann looking at him and his smile softened. “Hey. Nice color combo,” he said motioning to her yellow sweater and orange top.

“Thanks…” She replied with a careful smile and stepped closer to him. “…How are you?” She tried a little clumsily.

He laughed a little. “Fine. Well, a little amped from all the performing and recording the past week. But what can you do,” he claimed lightly.

She nodded slowly. “I just…you know, we had that argument after the show…”

“Oh that? That was so long ago. I barely remember what happened,” he tossed casually. “Though that could’ve been the mary jane later that night talking,” he half-joked.

Ann’s smile grew a little wider, finally feeling some relief. Maybe Davy was right when he told her backstage Peter would just move on. “I’m glad. What with us going to the Monterey festival this weekend…”

“Oh, I’m so stoked for that! And for once I can sit in the audience and enjoy the show with you,” he said optimistically, which made her smile even more.

“Chip, are we doing rhythm first?” He raised his voice slightly for the producer to hear him across the room.

“Yeah—well, actually, let’s start with the claps since the girls are here,” he requested.

Ann let out an exaggerated breath. “Oh, God. I think I’ll just let Tracy and Rochelle enjoy this since their visits are a lot rarer than mine.”

“No way!” Peter insisted and grabbed her hand then moved over to where the rest of the group was. Ann let herself smile even though she felt a little anxious over the thought of being on a professional record. “This’ll be like we’re playing together!” 

“So have any of you clapped in time before?” Chip asked as he stood in front of the girls and Peter, but was met with silence. “Okay…well, that’s alright, I can just teach you. You’re going to clap in twos…” For around 10 minutes Chip showed the girls how clap to the specific rhythm that he wanted until the three writers perfected it. Peter then got behind the piano and began to play his riff for the song. After a couple of minutes of the foursome playing overly excitedly to the point where the ladies began singing along to the chorus with Peter; he heard a voice from the intercom in the soundboard corner and stopped playing suddenly. “Guys! Okay…I think we got it,” Chip proclaimed. “Let’s try it again without the singing.” Ann turned back to look at Peter with an exhilarated smile spread across her face, and him returning an equally vibrant grin.


End file.
